


childhood memories

by imposterhuman



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Everyone hates magic, Gen, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kid Tony Stark, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Poor Bucky Barnes, Tony Stark Hates Magic, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, deaging, ignores CACW, polyglot Tony, pure angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-13 23:28:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16481783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imposterhuman/pseuds/imposterhuman
Summary: tony gets deaged during battle, and the avengers learn some things about howard starkor, the obligatory deaging fic with a side of extra angst(trigger warning: child abuse, and its not pretty, please dont read if itll trigger you!)





	childhood memories

**Author's Note:**

> this is 10000% angst im so sorry
> 
> also this was supposed to be short why do i keep doing this

Bucky was watching Tony’s back when it all went wrong.

 

It was just a routine battle with some incompetent magician, nothing too serious, until Tony got hit with a blast of purple magic.

 

The Iron Man suit fell to the ground from fifty stories up, completely motionless.

 

“TONY!” Bucky screamed as he watched his boyfriend plummet to the ground. “JARVIS, take control of the suit! Override 52202!”

 

The suit slowed, then stopped, hovering in midair. Without warning, it shot off back towards the Tower. 

 

“Winter, report!” Steve hollered into the coms. “What the hell just happened?” While the others had been watching Tony fall, the magician had disappeared.

 

“I don't know, Stevie,” Bucky said, trying fruitlessly to retreat into Winter Soldier mode to stave off the anxiety.

 

“We need to get back to the Tower, ASAP,” Clint said, no levity in his voice. Even he understood that something was potentially very wrong.

 

Bucky all but sprinted to the quinjet, where he started pacing back and forth.

 

“He’s going to be fine,” Natasha said, having snuck up behind him. She placed  careful hand on his shoulder. “He’s tough, you know that.”

 

“JARVIS had to override his suit, which means he was conscious but unresponsive, and now he’s gone!” Bucky wanted to scream. “What the fuck was in that blast?”

 

Bruce grimaced. “I might be able to answer that one,” he said. “A lot of the blasts went wide, right?” Without waiting for confirmation, he continued. “When they came into contact with living things, they, well, deaged them, I guess.”

 

“How young?” Steve said quietly.

 

Bruce winced. “The trees reverted back to seedlings,” he replied.

 

“So we potentially have an infant Tony at home?” Clint asked.

 

“We don’t know how much protection the suit offered, but he’s probably a child, yes,” Bruce looked vaguely green at the thought.

 

Bucky was silent. He wanted to scream, but held it in. He was also probably doing what Tony called his  _ murder face,  _ which would explain why all of the Avengers took an unconscious step backwards. 

 

Steve gulped. “How do we undo it?”

 

“I’ll call Strange, apparently he’s a magician now,” the scientist responded, already typing away at his tablet.

 

“We’re here,” Clint said blankly, landing the jet on the roof of the Tower.

 

Bucky was the first one out the door.

 

\---

 

Tony was confused. 

 

When he was let out of the metal suit into what he assumed was someone’s living room, no one had come to get him. No one came to tie him up, or hit him, not like any of his other kidnappings. 

 

The metal suit had disappeared almost immediately, so he had no guard either, not that he could see.

 

Tony shook his head. Kidnappers were dumb. Being as that was, he still needed to escape. He snuck towards the kitchen, eyes peeled for movement. Seeing none, he grabbed to toaster off of the counter and ducked into a corner. 

 

Using his nails, Tony pried open the back of the toaster to get to the wiring he needed. He frowned, because the toaster was  _ way  _ more advanced than anything they had at home. Oh well, he’d build it when he got back. Maybe Howard would like it. Tony pulled at the wires and circuits, fashioning them into a bomb. Bombs out of appliances were the first thing Howard had him make after his first kidnapping, so that Tony could get out and he wouldn’t have to pay ransom again. 

 

Tony’s tongue poked out of his mouth as he inspected his work. He had made two bombs, a big one and a small one. Not bad, but he didn’t have time for anything better. He snuck towards the stairwell, completely ignoring the elevator. He had tried the elevator the kidnapping before last, and it didn’t end well for him, and Howard was so mad that he wasn’t willing to risk it again.

 

Tony wanted to cry when he saw that the only stairs were going up, and he knew he wasn't underground from the windows.  _ Stark men don’t cry,  _ he reminded himself as he climbed the stairs, holding his tiny bomb like a teddy bear.

 

He reached the roof just in time to see a silvery blue plane land on it. Tony ducked back behind the door as he saw a bunch of adults stream out. 

 

Tony figured he could probably fly the plane (he  _ was  _ six, after all. He was a big kid, and big kids could fly planes), or at least use it to call Jarvis to come and get him. First he had to get past the grown-ups, though. He took a deep breath, and ran out the door, right into the chest of one of them. 

 

“Hold this,” he said cheekily before sprinting away. He dodged a redhead and ducked under a blond, making it maybe twenty feet before his larger bomb went off. It wasn’t as big as he wanted, it would've been better if he had used the microwave.

 

The adults all looked at him in surprise. With their attention on him, Tony figured he wouldn’t have time to hack the plane doors to let him in. He pushed down his fear and stepped forward, a sneer twisting his little lips.

 

“Tony?” the large blond one asked. “Is that you?”

 

Tony debated whether or not he should pretend to  _ not  _ be Tony Stark. He pretended to be Edward Carbonell one time, and his kidnappers let him go almost immediately. He didn’t think it would work this time, though, so he went with the truth. “How do you know my name?” he spat.

 

The one with the curly dark hair stepped forwards. “Tony, my name is Bruce. Your dad went out of town and dropped you off here with us, and we just got back from the store” he said soothingly.

 

Tony didn’t buy it for a second. “Howard would’ve just left me at home, so  _ you’re  _ a liar. Anyone want to try the truth?” Tony knew he was being obnoxious, but if he tried to be polite, he figured he’d burst into tears (and he had tried politeness with kidnapping number four, and it got him more bruises than being rude). He was terrified, but the worst thing to do would be to show it, so he just kept glaring. 

 

The redhead let out a short bark of laughter. “That’s Tony, all right,” she said. 

 

Tony gulped. How did they know him? “Howard isn’t going to pay ransom,” he said, cutting to the chase. “So you might as well just let me go, or I’ll blow you up for real this time.”

 

The scary brunet, the one Tony had handed the bomb to, stepped slowly forward, as if Tony were a scared wild animal. “We aren’t going to hurt you,” he said softly, hands out.

 

“That’s what they all say, but then they think Howard will pay if they beat me up a little. Spoiler alert, he won’t,” Tony was slowly backing away. 

 

“How old are you, Tony?” the other blond, the shorter one, asked. 

 

Tony figured that he should tell the truth again. “I’m six,” he answered honestly. 

 

The tall blond man looked sad. “Tony…” he started. “Come inside with us, we’ll explain everything.”

 

Tony considered it or a minute. On the roof, his only escape was the plane, which wasn’t likely with all of the grown-ups watching him. Inside, he’d at least be able to steal parts, maybe make a radio to call Jarvis. Or 911. But probably Jarvis. 

 

“Fine,” he said sullenly, marching forward. The two blond men went in front of him, while the redhead and the two brunettes were behind him. Tony swallowed his fear at being fenced in. How was he supposed to escape now? He’d have to wait for them to let their guard down.

 

They led him back to the living room area he’d started in. The scary brunet took in the ruins of the toaster with an unreadable look. Tony fiddled with the bomb in his pocket. Now was his chance, he figured. Unfortunately, the scary one had wised up, deftly snatching the bomb out of Tony's small hands before he could detonate it. When he turned those pale eyes on Tony, Tony stood defiantly. They kidnapped him, they deserved to be blown up a little bit. It's not like the bombs would  _actually_ hurt, they were more for distraction than anything else. When he said as much, the room went silent, all eyes on him again.

 

“Tony,” Bruce started. “Why do you think you’ve been kidnapped?”

 

Tony glared. “Maybe because I don’t know you and I can’t leave?” he asked sarcastically. 

 

The tall blond turned to him. “My name is Steve,” he said. “That’s Natasha, Clint, and Bucky.” At the last name, Tony went pale. 

 

“Are you Captain America?” Tony asked timidly.

 

Steve remembered Tony saying something about being a big Cap fanboy, back in the day, so he hefted his shield and did his best to look captainly.

 

“That’s me,” he said, aiming for reassuring. By the look on Tony’s face, he had fallen flat.

 

Tony looked terrified. Steve watched the boy take a breath and marshal his features back into the cocky defiant look he had aimed at Bucky moments earlier. 

 

“Get it over with, then, Cap,” Tony said, fear flashing in his eyes but not showing on his face ( _ That must be why he always wears sunglasses,  _ Steve thought.  _ His eyes are too expressive) _ . “Quickly, please, though.”

 

Bucky recoiled, as if slapped. “What do ya think he’s gonna do?” he asked gruffly.

 

Tony shrugged. “Kill me, right? Howard wasn’t clear on the details, but I’m willing to bet it isn’t nice.” At that, Bruce turned bright green. “Is that normal?” Tony asked, curious. Instead of answering, Bruce stumbled away down the hall. 

 

Steve looked like he was about to cry. “Tony,” he said firmly. “I promise would never hurt you.”

 

A little of the fear left Tony’s eyes at that. He remembered Howard saying that Captain America never lied. But Tony was smart and good with loopholes, and just because  _ Captain America  _ wouldn't hurt him didn’t mean his friends wouldn’t. 

 

Clint bent down and placed a gentle hand on Tony’s shoulder. Tony flinched violently, and Clint grimaced. “Tony,” he said gently. “Why did you think Cap was gonna hurt you?”

 

“Howard says that I’m a bad boy, and that if Captain America were here, he’d do more than Howard did. Howard says he’s too soft on me,” Tony said in a rush. He tried not to stumble over his words, because Howard hated it if he stuttered or talked with a lisp.

 

Bucky looked like he wanted to hit something (Tony was intimately familiar with that look). Natasha stood next to him, explaining something in soothing Russian. Tony closed his eyes and listened for a second. 

 

“Miss,” Tony said softly. “что вы имеете в виду под пожилым?” ( **Russian: What do you mean by de aged?** )

 

Natasha, to her credit, kept the shell shocked expression off of her face. “You speak Russian, котенок?” ( **Russian: kitten** )

 

“I speak lotsa languages,” Tony said proudly. As soon as the words were out, he clapped his hands over his mouth. “I’m sorry!” he said, voice muffled by his fingers. “I didn’t mean to stumble, please don’t punish me, I’ll be good, I promise!” Bucky turned on his heel and fled the room. Tony’s heart sank. He figured Bucky had gone to get the belt.

 

“You didn’t do anything wrong, дорогой,” Natasha tried to soothe Tony, but he looked more terrified than ever ( **Russian: dear one** ). Tony took a deep breath and ran towards Steve, where he latched onto Steve’s leg like a limpet.

 

“You  _ promise  _ you won’t hurt me?” Tony asked softly. Steve nodded. “Please don’t let them hurt me, either,” Tony begged, tears coming out of his eyes. “I didn't mean to say the wrong word, honest.”

 

Steve was speechless. How was this scared little boy their Tony? He couldn’t let himself dwell, though, because his little limpet needed an answer. “No one here will hurt you, I promise,” Steve swore. Natasha and Clint nodded, giving the boy small smiles. 

 

“Mr. Captain America sir, what are you going to do with me?” Tony asked, eyes wide. “Because Howard doesn’t want me anymore, right? That’s why he gave me to you?”

 

Steve winced. “We’re gonna take care of you, okay?” he resolved. “Now how about some lunch?”

 

\---

 

All throughout lunch, Tony had sat ramrod straight on the stools, a huge contrast to his normal catlike sprawl on every vaguely horizontal surface. Even when they had moved to the sofas, Tony didn’t let himself lean, just sat up straight like he was held up by strings. 

 

“Tony?” Bruce ventured. He had come up from the Hulk Room during lunch, looking significantly calmer. “You know you’re allowed to sit back, right?”

 

Tony gave Bruce a small smile and leaned against the sofa. He couldn’t quite disguise the pain that flitted across his features, and Bucky, who had been watching him intently, noticed.

 

“Are you hurt, Tones?” Bucky asked quietly.

 

“No!” Tony said, too quickly to be believable. “I’m just… I’m sore, I slept weirdly.” His eyes moved side to side, scanning the room for an escape. 

 

“Tony,” Steve said sternly, regretting it when Tony flinched. “Where are you hurt?”

 

Tony schooled his features into a familiar devil-may-care attitude, so out of place on his young face. “Nowhere, Mr. Captain America sir,” his carefully crafted expression was less than respectful, but his tone was sincere.

 

Natasha wanted to stab Howard Stark. She could tell Tony was hurting from his earlier flinch, but if she hadn’t seen it, his tone gave nothing away. Tony was too good a liar for a six year old boy, and Natasha hated Howard for it.

 

“Tony, sweetie, let us see please,” Natasha said, reaching towards the boy.

 

Tony recoiled. “это противоречит правилам, мисс Наташа,” he whispered ( **Russian: it’s against the rules, Miss Natasha** )

 

“Not here,” Bucky said. He, too, had come back during lunch, eyes slightly red and puffy.

 

“Promise?” Tony asked. “Howard would get really mad if I broke the rules.”

 

“I promise,” Bucky reassured the boy. “And Howard’s not here, so his rules don’t count anymore.”

 

Tony hesitantly lifted up his shirt and turned around.

 

The whole team gasped at the gashes running across his back. They looked like whip marks. They were interspersed with bruises on his ribs and too many scars.

 

“Who did this to you?” Steve demanded, trying (and failing) to keep the anger out of his tone.

 

“Please don’t be mad, Mr. Captain America,” Tony said. “It’s because I was a bad boy, I deserved it. I’ll be better, I promise, but please don’t be mad.”

 

Natasha, noticing Steve’s clenched fists, dragged the man, with Bucky tagging along, out of the room before he could scare Tony more, leaving the little boy with Bruce and Clint. 

 

“Get yourselves under control,” Natasha hissed at the pair. “You’re scaring him.”

 

Steve let out a breath. “How didn’t we know about this?”

 

“He hides it well,” Bucky said sadly. 

 

“I’m a terrible person, Nat,” Steve looked like he was about to cry. “I’ve told him to be more like Howard so many times, how could-”

 

Natasha cut him off. “Steve, we’ve all done wrong by him,” she said. “God, some of the things I’ve said… but we can’t dwell on it now, we need to get him back to normal first.”

 

“He trusts you, I think,” Steve pointed out. “Can you get him to agree to see Strange?”

 

Nat shook her head. “He doesn’t trust me, he’s scared of me. During lunch, he told me that he knows I’m a spy. If I tell him we need him to see Strange, he’d do it, but he’d panic. Bucky, he trusts you. I think you need to do it. You know I wouldn’t ask if there was another way.”

 

“I’ll try, Nat. I’ll try.”

 

\---

 

Bucky was having a bad fucking day. 

 

First, he had woken up alone, because Tony had gone to the lab early in the morning with some new crazy idea. Then, when he finally gets some time with his boyfriend, they get called to assemble.  _ Then _ , Tony had gone and gotten himself hit with a fucking magic lightning bolt and turned into a child. 

 

So yeah, except for all of that, Bucky was doing great.

 

And that was  _ before  _ child Tony opened his mouth.

 

Their introduction had been explosive to say the least (and Bucky was impressed, how many six year olds could make bombs out of toasters?). Bucky had expected a mini version of his boyfriend, cocky, smart, and loud. Instead, he got a smack to the face with the realization of how bad Howard really was. 

 

As soon as Tony had said  _ Howard isn’t going to pay ransom _ , Bucky felt his heart break a little bit. How many times had Tony been kidnapped that there was a precedent for ransom payment? He was honestly afraid to know the answer.

 

Things only got worse from there, with Tony flinching at every sudden movement and throwing up those impenetrable masks. When Tony thought they were going to hurt him, Bucky wanted to sweep the child up in his arms and run away. He wanted to make sure that no one ever hurt Tony again. He ran away because he couldn’t stand to look at his boyfriend, so hurt and vulnerable, and not be able to  _ do  _ anything. It was selfish, yeah, but Bucky couldn’t bear to see the pain in Tony’s eyes, not disguised as it normally was, because of  _ him _ . 

 

Tony, to his credit, was just as perceptive as a child as he was an adult. When they were eating lunch, Tony had leaned over to whisper in perfect German, “She’s a spy, isn’t she?” Then the boy went back to eating as if nothing was wrong, even though his eyes were darting fearfully around the room. Bucky almost didn’t catch Natasha’s eyes widening when Tony whispered a sentence to her in a language he didn’t know. 

 

The cherry on top of the shit cake was the belt marks on Tony’s back. Bucky had figured out that Howard beat Tony, but he didn’t think that Howard would  _ whip  _ the child. Tony was six, for god’s sake! It made him feel awful, but Bucky had a perverse sense of satisfaction that he had killed Howard.

 

Bucky had left the room after that, scared to see the resignation on Tony’s face when he said that he deserved it. This boy… how did his Tony come from this? Bucky couldn’t even see hints of the man Tony became, but maybe, he thought guilitly, that was because he hadn’t spent much time with the boy.

 

Forcing his face into a smile after his chat with Natasha and Steve, Bucky strode back into the living room, where Bruce and Clint were trying to talk to an alarmingly blank Tony.

 

When Tony made eye contact with Bucky, however, he lit up a little bit. 

 

“You didn’t leave me!” he said happily.

 

“Of course not, мое маленькое солнце,” Bucky said, reaching out to ruffle Tony’s hair with his metal arm ( **Russian: my little sun** ). When Tony didn’t flinch away, Bucky went through with the action. Tony just closed his eyes and melted a little into the touch, clearly touch-starved. 

 

When Tony opened his eyes, though, they were the size of dinner plates. “Is your arm metal?” he asked excitedly. “Can I see it? I promise I won’t break it,” Tony begged. 

 

Bucky shrugged. “I don’t see why not,” he said lightly. Tony let out the first genuine smile Bucky had seen since he got himself deaged. “While you look, do you think I can introduce you to a friend of mine? He’s a doctor. We want to make sure you’re okay, Tones.”

 

Tony bit his lip. “Will you stay with me?” he asked hesitantly. 

 

Bucky nodded, throat tight. “Always, love.”

 

\---

 

One of the cute things about little Tony (and there were too many to count, trauma notwithstanding), Bucky figured, was that the boy tended to lapse into Italian when he got excited. Adult Tony never did, he claimed that he forgot the language that his mother had taught him. Bucky had never seen a reason to call him out on his lie.

 

When Tony had seen the workshop, his mouth had fallen open in shock. When Bucky told him he could go in, Tony ran like a little whirlwind, touching everything with a huge smile. An uninterrupted flow of Italian left him breathless as he ran around. 

 

Natasha, for her part, looked confused as to why shy was there. Bucky with his super soldier hearing had heard Tony’s justification, but Natasha was having trouble comprehending his trust. 

 

“Miss Natasha,” Tony had said in the hall before they came down. He had tugged Natasha’s wrist until she stopped walking and looked up at her. 

 

“Yes, Tony?” Natasha looked sad, like she figured Tony was going to tell her to leave. 

 

“You’re a good spy, Miss,” Tony had said simply. “I like you.”

 

Natasha’s mouth had fallen open and she let the boy drag her to the shop, where she stood awkwardly at the door while Tony explored. 

 

“Tony,” Bucky called. “Come sit, please, so you can see my arm. Doctor Strange is on his way.”

 

Tony obediently plopped down on the stool next to Bucky and started poking lightly at the metal. Bucky could see echoes of  _ his  _ Tony in the curious way the boy poked out his tongue when he was thinking.

 

“Who made it?” Tony asked. “Was it Howard?”

 

Bucky shook his head. “It was my boyfriend, actually. He’s really smart, a genius, really.”

 

Tony didn’t respond to that, just resumed his poking. After about five minutes, Doctor Strange portalled in.

 

Tony almost pitched backwards off of his stool in terror, saved only by Natasha’s fast reflexes. 

 

“Thanks, Miss Natasha,” Tony said, snuggling into her hand a little. Now that he figured that no one would hurt him, Tony was downright affectionate.

 

“Hello, Tony,” Doctor Strange said gently, cape still. “My name is Doctor Strange, I’m here to check on you.”

 

Tony looked up, wide eyed. “Are we using fake names?” he asked. “Because then I’m Edward Carbonell.”

 

Bucky barked out a laugh. “No, котенок, his name really is Doctor Strange.”

 

Tony looked perplexed, but he decided it was better to just shrug and accept it. “Hello, then, Mr. Doctor Strange.”

 

It was Strange’s turn to look perplexed at Tony’s manners. The man he knew patently refused to call him  _ doctor _ , preferring weird nicknames relating to either magic or his facial hair (which was so much better than Tony’s, but he was digressing). “You can call me Stephen, if you’d like,” Strange offered.

 

“I know a Stephen Strange!” Tony said excitedly. “He’s like, super smart, but Howard doesn’t let me talk to him.”

 

Strange got a sad look on his face at that, which Bucky figured was the running theme of the day. Pockets of happiness, then little Tony would say something that made him want to hunt down Howard in hell to kill him all over again.

 

“Tony, I’m going to do a scan of you now, okay?” Strange said, waiting for confirmation. When Tony nodded, he moved his hands in a weird pattern, generating a golden light. The light washed over Tony, and Strange looked deep in thought about whatever it told him. Strange nodded at Bucky, conveying that they needed to talk, without Tony.

 

“Tones, why don’t you go run around the workshop with Nat?” Bucky suggested. Tony smiled and was up like a bullet, dragging Natasha around with him. The redhead had the ghost of a smile on her face.

 

Strange sighed, looking at the pair. “The good news,” he started. “Is that the spell is temporary. I should be able to reverse it, or we can let it run its course. The second option is safer, but that could take several days.”

 

Bucky grimaced. “And the bad news?”

 

“It’s not bad news, per se, just sad,” Strange said. “He was reverted exactly back to his physical state at age six on this date. All of his injuries are probably hurting as if he got them yesterday, which, I guess to him, he did. And I peeked in his memories, just to make sure that it wasn’t a swap or something, and it’s exactly as bad as you think, probably worse.”

 

“Reverse it,” Bucky said, taking a deep breath. “He hasn’t really gone five minutes without being terrified out of his mind, and I can’t watch this for days. Call me selfish, but I can’t see him suffering if there’s something we can do.”

 

A ghost of a smile played on Strange’s lips. “You really love him, don’t you?”

 

“Yeah,” Bucky managed, throat tight.

 

Hey, Tony?” Strange called, putting a cheery smile on his face. “Can you come here,  सानो ?” ( **Nepali: little one** ) 

 

Tony plodded over, Natasha hovering at his back. She met Bucky’s eyes with a questioning look, and Bucky nodded at her. They couldn’t risk talking, because there was no guarantee Tony didn’t speak every language they did. 

 

Strange spoke slowly, eyes on Tony. “I’m going to help you, okay? You’ll probably feel a little tickle, but I need you to be brave and not move.”

 

Tony nodded, eyes wide but determined. He grabbed Bucky’s metal hand with one of his tiny ones and Natasha’s hand in the other.

 

Strange started chanting, gold and blue light emanating from his closed palms. Tony suddenly went rigid, hands gripping Bucky and Natasha's almost too tight. As Strange chanted, Tony started to grow, slowly at first, and then fast. It was like watching a TV on fast forward, the way Tony’s face changed and his body grew. Bucky knew the process was almost done when he saw the arc reactor peeking through Tony’s shirt. He was confused by the black lines the covered Tony afterward, but they soon disappeared, so Bucky figured it was a side effect of the magic. Before long, their Tony sat on the stool.

 

Natasha, however, understood every stage of Tony’s development. She saw the bruises that bloomed and faded in a heartbeat, the broken bones that corrected themselves instantly, and the darkened veins from the palladium poisoning. She saw it all, and she wanted to cry. She counted this man among her closest friends, and she had managed to judge him all wrong. She resolved that when Tony was back to normal and he and Bucky had had their life-affirming sex, she was going to steal him for a spa day and really get to know the Tony behind all his masks.

 

Tony felt every echo of pain as he aged fast. Some lasted barely a blink, like bruises and scrapes and hangovers from week long benders, and some were agonizing, like the arc reactor surgery and the torture. When he returned to himself, he was disoriented, to say the least. 

 

“What the  _ fuck  _ just happened?” he asked. He didn’t get an answer, as Bucky was too busy attacking his mouth. Tony melted into the kiss, not noticing when Strange and Natasha left.

 

“Missed you, love,” Bucky panted, separating from Tony to touch their foreheads together. “I love you so much, and we’re gonna have a long fuckin’ talk, but I missed you too much for that right now.”

 

“Love you, too,” Tony said breathlessly. “Talk later, sex now.”

 

Bucky laughed, happy and free and  _ whole _ , and complied.

 

**Author's Note:**

> what did you think?
> 
> comments and kudos warm my shriveled dead heart


End file.
